“C’mon Lisa, staying in your quarters playing solitaire is no way to spend a free Saturday night.  Besides, this is the inaugural opening of the ‘The Bridge’, and I’m sure they’re expecting at least a few of us officers to show up.”

Claudia Grant, Navigator and Chief Weapons Officer of the SDF-1, was in the midst of trying on several outfits, and modeling them for cursory inspection by the red-headed young woman who sat on her bed passing judgment on each.  The pile of discarded choices was growing higher and higher with each incredulous look from her friend, and Claudia was getting frustrated.

“You know this kind of thing isn’t me, Claudia,” Lisa Hayes said, her eyes widening in shock with each new outrageous outfit Claudia paraded in front of her.  While Lisa admired her best friend’s womanly curves, in contrast to her own straight, athletic frame, some of the fashions made her wonder just what Claudia had been thinking when she bought them, and for whom.  Some of the dresses looked more like lingerie, and certainly not something one would wear in public.  “Besides, commanding officers have a duty to be an example of proper behavior, and carousing in front of their soldiers isn’t it.”

Claudia rolled her eyes.  “Oh please, girlfriend.  Don’t spout rules and regulations at me, not on my downtime.  It’s bad enough I’ve got to deal with little miss ‘no smoking on the bridge, sir’ everyday.  I just want to let my hair down, and so do you.”

Lisa said nothing, knowing that once again Claudia was right, and hating to admit it.

Ever since the death of her fiancé Karl Riber, all she’d done was throw herself into her work, leaving her little time to think or to grieve.  She maintained a polite distance from practically everyone around her, save Claudia, who’d been her best friend since their academy days.

Deep inside she knew that she was hiding from her feelings, that it was time to let go of Karl’s memory, but the guilt in doing so—that she had survived when he hadn’t—still plagued her.  Worse, she was in grave danger of turning into her father, Admiral Hayes, a fate she had promised herself that she’d avoid at all costs, but which seemed to be a self-fulfilling prophesy.    

Still, it couldn’t hurt to make an appearance, Lisa shrugged to herself pragmatically.  At the very least she could see if the crew was behaving itself with some sort of decorum.  Besides, it would serve as a means for her to get to know better those who served under her.  Maybe then people wouldn’t find her so unapproachable.  She never wanted to be the kind of officer her father was—cold and completely out of touch with his people.

“Okay, I’m in.  But if someone’s dancing on top of the table with a lampshade on their heads, they’re in for some serious disciplinary action.”

Claudia’s amused grin was wide.  She then took one hopeless look at Lisa’s drab and rather unflattering service whites.  “You are so not wearing those to the club.  You’re not on duty anymore.  C’mon, I’m sure I’ve got something to fit you that won’t offend your modesty too much.”

Lisa took one look at the outfit Claudia had chosen for herself—tight leather jeans, a corset-style top and boots with a heel so high and so thin that they seemed impossible to walk in.  Compared to everything else Claudia had tried on, this one seemed the most ‘conservative’, and that was saying something.

Lisa blanched at the thought of what Claudia wanted to put her in.  “I just hope you’re not expecting me to show that much skin, Claudia.”

“Actually, sweetie, it wouldn’t hurt you to do just that.  You’re a woman, not some sexless machine.  Show off those curves and give the flyboys out there something worth fighting for.”

Lisa had to laugh, the image of being some Veritech pilot’s pin-up girl almost too ridiculous for words.  “Well, as long as it’s not too short or too tight.  I do have a reputation to maintain.”

“Not tonight you don’t,” Claudia quipped. “Tonight you’re just Lisa Hayes, reporting to party central!”  The mock salute she gave made them both laugh.

Later, the two friends spent a leisurely couple of hours indulging in facials, gossip, and playing with Lisa’s rich russet hair, trying out new and more sophisticated styles.  Finally, Lisa settled on a simple ponytail held back with a crystal-encrusted clip.  She dusted a bit of shadow on her eyes and applied a rich ruby lipstick to lips that she often considered her best feature. 

Claudia gave her approval.  “You look really great, Lisa.  No one’s going to recognize you.”

After zipping up the simple black slipdress Claudia loaned to her, and taking another look, this time in the full-length mirror, Lisa had to admit for the first time in a long time, she looked surprisingly good.  The dress accentuated her frame perfectly, showing off her slender legs.  Her father would not have approved, but for tonight, her father could go hang.

“Let’s go knock ‘em dead!”  Claudia crowed.

***

 ‘The Bridge’ was the hot new officers’ club that had opened on the SDF-1 and it was determined to be the best.  Located several levels inside of the cavernous battlefortress, it boasted one of the latest and loudest (at least to Lisa’s ears as she could actually feel the vibrations of the music through the lifts) sound systems available.  There was a modern wet bar, long enough to accommodate at least thirty or more people, and the bartenders, both male and female, were exceedingly good-looking and quite proficient in mixing drinks and showmanship, as they flipped, juggled and poured various alcoholic concoctions for an appreciative audience.

The dance floor, complete with state-of-the-art laser lighting, was as large as three Veritechs lined end to end, giving even the wildest dancers enough room to wave their arms as wide as they wished without accidentally striking anyone else.  The deejay was floor level, so that he could not only take requests easier, but also show off his impressive mixing and scratching skills. By the time Claudia and Lisa arrived, the place was nearly packed.

***

For Roy Fokker, Rick Hunter and Max Sterling, the party had already begun after their last mission.  Thankful to have survived yet another day in the seemingly endless Robotech War, they were determined to get as hammered as possible.

The three were now in the midst of a drinking game where the loser had to take a certain number of shots of expensive Titanian vodka. All three had lost track of the rules as well as the number of drinks each was supposed to take, and were well on their way to accomplishing their goal, with Rick looking far worse for wear than the other two.

“Had enough little brother,” Roy asked, slamming down his eleventh or twelfth shot or somewhere in that range.  “You can call it quits anytime.”

Rick looked at him with defiant if bloodshot eyes.  “No way, dude.  I can drink with the best of you guys.  I won’t have anyone calling me a lightweight.”  He belched loudly.

Max laughed, pouring yet another drink from the endless bottle that mysteriously appeared at their table.  From the corner of one eye, he saw the rather shapely brunette bartender who blew a kiss at him.  He raised a toast in her direction, something he wouldn’t do normally, since he tended towards extreme shyness when it came to the opposite sex, but the alcohol in his system made him bold.  It also surprised him that she hadn’t ignored him in favor of Roy, which tended to happen quite a bit.

Fokker’s eyes turned toward Max’s direction and he whistled appreciatively.  “Good choice, Sterling.  Grab her before I do.”

“Not a chance, flyboy,” Max replied jokingly.  “Besides, it’s not like you don’t have enough women in your harem to keep you company.”

Roy grinned roguishly.  “Sterling, there’s absolutely no such thing as too many women, considering how much we put our lives on the line.  After all, who knows if the next sortie won’t be our last?  I certainly wouldn’t want to leave any of these lovely ladies wondering what they missed.”

Rick belched again and reached for another shot.  “You’re a slut, Roy.  But I love you, man.”

Roy grinned hugely. “I love you too, little bro.  And maybe that should be your last drink.”

“Hey, stop being my mother, okay?  I’m all right.”

The next thing Roy and Max heard was the sound of Hunter’s head hitting the table with a thud.

***

Claudia and Lisa made their way through the crush, finding empty tables close enough to the dance floor.  Lisa had hoped for someplace less conspicuous, but Claudia wasn’t having it.

“Oh no, you’re not going to turn into a wallflower this soon,” Claudia admonished gaily.  “We’re going to have fun tonight and forget about duty for awhile.  And we’re starting right now.”  She called for drinks.  “A scotch on the rocks for me, and something sweet and pastel for my friend here.”

Lisa felt naked, the sensation of all eyes and all conversations seemingly turned toward her direction.  She saw Sammie, Kimmie and Vanessa at a table across from them.  All three of the ‘bridge bunnies’ faces were frozen in shock as they recognized their commanding officer looking far different than normal.  It was disconcerting, but a little upsetting too. 

Did they all expect for me not to have a social life, she thought rebelliously

Then again wasn’t that was the persona she herself had created?

“We’re gonna make a party girl out of you yet, Hayes,” Claudia said as their drinks came.  She raised her glass to Lisa.  “To a good night and getting lucky!”

Lisa took a long sip of the alcohol, feeling it course through her veins, slowly eroding away thoughts of duty and decorum.  Perhaps Claudia had been right after all, she thought, beginning to relax a little.  Perhaps she was a little too uptight and needed a chance to unwind.  After all, she wasn’t a machine.  And she sure as hell wasn’t her father.

Lisa gazed around the club for a minute, seeing people she knew by face, if not name.  Most came and spoke with her briefly, though she could barely hear them over the music.

The ratio of males to females was about even, and Lisa found herself taking more than a passing interest in some of them.  Most of the males seemed single, and those were the target of the scantily dressed females who strutted and preened for their benefit.  “I have to admit that I’m a little shocked at what some of those female officers are wearing though.”

Claudia shook her head ruefully. “You really don’t get out much do you, girl?  That’s typical club wear these days.”

Lisa looked a bit surprised.  “You didn’t have anything like that hanging in your closet.”

Claudia’s response was a mischievous grin.  “Let’s just say that we didn’t get that far.”

Lisa just ordered another drink.  Hearing a loud belch, she craned her head to see where it came from and found herself looking straight into the eyes of Rick Hunter, who looked just as surprised to see her.

***

 “Oh fuck,” Rick groaned thickly, raising his head, his voice slurred by alcohol.  “The old battleaxe is here!”  But as Rick’s vision cleared a little, it occurred to him that she looked absolutely nothing like an ‘old battleaxe’ now.  In fact, she looked rather—like a woman.

Lisa Hayes actually had breasts, rather than the armor he’d half-expected she’d be wearing underneath the uniform.

Even Roy and Max were taken aback to see their normally by-the-book commanding officer dressed in something rather skimpy, with heels nonetheless.

But Roy’s gaze was quickly diverted from the surprisingly good-looking Lisa Hayes to the dark-skinned woman seated next to her, obviously having a good time.  He’d seen and talked with Claudia Grant several times in the course of duty, and he’d always thought of her as attractive, but tonight she looked good enough to eat.  Between the flash of her lambent green eyes and the easy grace of her movements, Claudia stood out from the rest.

He could not put his finger on it—though at that moment he wanted to put more than just a finger on her—but there was something alluring about the feisty lieutenant that resonated within him.

Whatever it was, he was so compelled just to stare at her, completely entranced, that he didn’t hear Max calling his name.

“Huh?  What?”  He demanded sharply, hating to take his eyes away from the luscious package in his line of sight.

Max’s eyes were full of amusement.  “You can’t possibly be thinking of trying to make time with Lt. Grant.  I hear she’s got a mouth that could shoot down a Zentraedi battleloid.”

Still unable to tear his gaze away, Roy replied breezily, “Why waste a mouth like that on the damn Zentraedi when she could be kissing me, since I’d appreciate it a lot more?”

“Good luck, Fokker.  You’re going to need it with that one.”  

Roy stood up, his trademark bravado coming to the fore.  “I haven’t met a woman yet who could resist the old Fokker charm.”

As Roy sauntered in the direction of his quarry, Max muttered under his breath, “Man, you are going to get your ass handed to you on a platter.”  He was going to say something to Rick, but noticed that Rick’s eyes hadn’t left Lisa’s either.

Oh great, Max thought, sighing.  Another one. “This is going to be one hell of a night.”

***

Lisa could tell from her friend’s body language that Claudia was itching to get out on the dance floor, and she felt selfish for dominating so much of the other woman’s time.

C’mon Lisa, she chided to herself, you’re a big girl now.  You don’t need anyone holding your hand.  With a big smile, she shooed Claudia in the direction of the dance floor.  “But remember, no lampshades.”

Claudia blew Lisa a mock kiss and was turning toward the direction of the music when she felt a warm, masculine hand on her arm.

“Let’s dance,” Roy said, his voice an octave lower and sounding enticingly husky.  It was a voice of a man used to giving orders and having them obeyed without question.

She took one long look at the infamous playboy known as Roy Fokker, leader of the highly decorated Skull Squadron.  He was indeed good-looking in real life, with his shock of platinum-blonde hair, soulful deep blue eyes and a rakish smile that looked as if he was mentally eating her for dinner.  But there was something about his attitude, his arrogant certainty that he thought himself irresistible to women that just rubbed Claudia the wrong way.

The man had a reputation several miles long, and while she didn’t have anything against a healthy sexual appetite, Fokker’s seemed more about making conquests, and Claudia had no intention of being another notch on his belt.

Besides, past experience had taught her that men like Fokker tended to be selfish in bed.

Taking the sexy Lothario down a peg was a job long overdue.

“With you flyboy,” Claudia scoffed.  “I don’t think so.  But I’m sure there are plenty of women who’d love to.”  Jerking her thumb, she indicated a group of young women gathered behind them, their eyes full of worship and adoration.  One pair of eyes glittered with undisguised hostility in her direction, as if she’d staked her claim on Roy and that Claudia was in danger of trespassing.

“I don’t want to dance with them,” he said turning his glacier-blue gaze directly at her with undisguised admiration.  “I’d like to dance with you.”

Claudia pretended to consider, holding up her hand as if holding a dance card.  “Sorry sweetie, but it looks like I’m otherwise engaged.  Better luck next time.”

***

Before Roy could say anything else, Claudia Grant had thoroughly swept him aside.

Watching her casually stroll towards the dance floor with a careless nonchalance, he was torn between surprise at having been thoroughly set down, and admiration for the way she looked in those tight leather pants.  The normal dress whites he’d seen her in merely hinted at the lush curves of her hips, the shape of those luscious legs, and a pair of breasts that would fit just right in the palms of his hands.

Those legs that would look absolutely perfect wrapped around his waist.  That rich, berry-colored mouth of hers would be heaven to kiss.  That rich, wine-dark skin with its warm earth tones was probably smoother than velvet.

The dance floor became Claudia Grant’s personal stage, and Roy Fokker’s intense hunger for her grew exponentially.  Surrounded by several other dancers, he had eyes for no one else, even the small coterie of his admirers still trying to gain his attention.  They were an annoyance, but he could ignore them, as long as Claudia was in his sights.

She was obviously an expert dancer, her movements graceful, sultry and sure.  It was like watching silk in a summer breeze, swinging those tempting hips in a manner that had him completely and utterly spellbound.

Those were the kind of moves any stripper would envy, he thought, a wicked picture of her naked and writhing beneath him almost making him gasp from the strength of the arousal the image caused. And she seemed completely unconcerned about sexual signals she was sending, especially his way.  It had to be illegal somewhere, or against some official regulations as to what she was not only doing to him, but probably to every other red-blooded male in the club.

He continued to watch, far from a dispassionate observer.  He was no longer intoxicated from alcohol, but from the sight of the sexy woman holding court on the dance floor, surrounded by dull drones.

Roy’s face darkened as another dancer, a young ensign in his squadron, began matching Claudia’s movements perfectly, and for a fleeting moment several creative ways to make the ensign’s life a perfect hell flashed through his mind.

It was that moment Roy Fokker realized that he was jealous. 

Most women threw themselves at him, and he’d come to expect that.  After all, in some ways it was his due for services rendered on their behalf.  He’d never thought about it before, being the sort of person who believed in living in the here and now.

He thought it was crazy to be so consumed by a woman, especially by one who had absolutely no interest in him whatsoever, but nothing of the sort had ever happened to Roy before.

Ironically, it was that very insouciance which fueled his desire for her even more.

One always wants what they cannot have.

***

It had been too far long, Claudia thought as the music surrounded her and suffused her limbs with the power of its primal rhythm.  Knots of tension and fear from week upon week of Zentraedi onslaughts unraveled as the music took her to another place that did not know war, pain or loss. 

Her cute little impromptu dance partner grinned, matching her move for move.  His brown eyes held nothing more than an enjoyment of being paired with another of equal skill, and though she was comforted that she wouldn’t have to go through the attendant drama of turning him down for a drink, or maybe more, she was a little disappointed too.

That wouldn’t have been the case if she’d danced with Roy Fokker, whose eyes she felt like a pair of spectral hands caressing her. Knowing him, he’d be all over her, whispering sweet nothings, acting as if getting her back to her quarters was already a foregone conclusion.

Then again, it might not be such a bad thing, considering that it had been quite some time since she’d had a man in her bed.  Celibacy might work for Lisa, but life was too short to wait for the one great love of one’s life.  Fokker might not have been Mr. Right, but he just might do for Mr. Right Now.

Perhaps if it were anyone else but Fokker, she might have considered it.  Still the sensation of his eyes devouring her body as she danced made her even more aware of him.

He was undeniably attractive, and the thought of those hands on her—

Suddenly, as if he’d read the unspoken train of her thoughts, Roy was in front of her, his eyes twin blue lights filled with desire.  By magic or strength of his will, the music changed into a slow, sensuous throb of swirling keyboards, drum and bass, and the young man she’d been dancing with moments ago had disappeared.  Strangely Claudia didn’t spare him another thought.

“May I?”  Roy asked again, this time his voice was tinged with expectation rather than certainty.

“Of course,” Claudia replied softly.  “You asked nicely this time.”

She was in his arms before she could react. Hot hands found their way on her waist, leading her in a private dance as his hips became a tortuous assault on her senses.  Nothing in her wildest dreams had prepared her for the reaction of his body against her own.  Molten heat coursed through her veins, her heart beat crazily inside her chest.

***

Neither had the inclination to move away as one song faded into the next.  Roy loathed the thought of surrendering Claudia to anyone else, even though his seeming possessiveness of her was quickly becoming topic number one throughout the club.

Eyes closed, Roy inhaled the spicy fragrance she wore, savored the satiny feel of the woman in his arms.  There should have been some awkwardness on either part, but they flowed seamlessly as one.  It was almost like making love to someone cherished, rather than to a stranger.

For Claudia, it just seemed right somehow.  He didn’t talk, nor try to prove his virility—he just held her tenderly, but without pressure.  It would have been easy for her to extricate herself, but she didn’t want to.  It seemed as if she were seeing a side of Roy Fokker that many people didn’t realize existed.

The music grew passionate, and Claudia found herself slipping into a state of dreaminess.  The sultry wail of the saxophone was in her blood, and Roy’s muscular frame against hers caused it to overheat.  She was in danger of completely ignoring the warning signals in her head about him being an expert seducer—it just felt too damn good to be in his arms.  It was a sweet bump n’ grind, but mutual as he dipped her backwards then brought her up slowly, her thighs against his muscular ones.

It took every ounce of self-control not to alarm her with his growing arousal, but Roy was determined not to ruin this experience.  Claudia Grant was more than some one-night stand, and he didn’t know when or how that had happened.

He sensed that people were talking about them, especially him.  He was sure that some of the pilots, knowing his reputation, already wagered the outcome. A wry smile of amusement crossed his face when the ones who’d bet upon his bedding Claudia found out that he hadn’t.  He just hoped they didn’t bet their entire paychecks.

Served them right if they had, he thought.  He wasn’t going to sleep with Claudia Grant.  At least not tonight.

Finally, as a faster techno beat intruded upon their world, they parted, still lost and still amazed.

“Thank you,” he said.  “I mean it.”

Suddenly shy, Claudia lowered her eyes.  “You’re welcome.”

***

Later, they walked back to her quarters in silence, each lost in thought and speculation.

Roy had no idea how Claudia Grant had managed to get under his skin so quickly.  Moreover, he had no idea why he felt so strongly attracted to her.  It wasn’t just her body that he craved, though in all honesty the images that flashed through his mind as they were dancing would fuel some intense fantasies for a very long time.  The power of his need threatened to overwhelm all common sense, but a part of him knew that if he slept with her tonight, he’d regret it.  Or worse, she’d treat it, and him, as something fleeting—and he wanted so much more than to be just a memory.

Why did it matter so much?

It would be a lot of cold showers, but if he could control the complex machine that was a Veritech fighter, he could control a libido that threatened to go on a rampage.

***

He was going to kiss her, Claudia knew.  And she still wasn’t sure how she felt about that.  He had a nice mouth, and he was probably an expert kisser, but she had no intentions of being another of Fokker’s conquests.  Still, wouldn’t it be nice to feel those lips against her own, to feel his naked body against hers, held tight in his strong arms, to taste him all over.

They stood facing each other in front of Claudia’s quarters, each trying to decide what to do next.

“Oh, what the hell,” Claudia said as she gently placed her mouth against his.

Surprise gave way to pleasure as he slowly sank deeper into the lips that he’d so wanted to kiss since he’d first seen her.  They were soft and warm, and her mouth tasted like the sweetest honey.

They broke the kiss gently, still in each other’s arms.  Claudia smiled.  “Mmmm.  Well, that was nice.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” he growled.  “My turn, Claudia.”

This time their kiss was deeper as Roy took his time to explore her warm, wet mouth.  He traced the seam of her lips with his own, swept his tongue inside tasting single-malt scotch and her sweetness.  He drank his fill, unwilling to end it with just a kiss but knowing that moving too fast would ruin this new sensation he was beginning to understand.  Using her head to keep her mouth fastened to him, he took everything she was willing to give.

Roy wanted Claudia badly, but moreover, he wanted all of Claudia.  And he wanted her to want not just a part of him, but all of him as well.  If it took time for it to happen, then so be it.

He could wait.  He would have to.

Slowly, hesitatingly, he broke away, his eyes dark.  “Good night, Claudia.”  He laced her small fingers in his, kissing each fingertip.  “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She nodded. “Good night, Roy.”

He thought he’d come from the husky sound of his name on her lips.

***

 “So what happened?” Rick asked Roy the next day as they prepared for maneuvers.

Roy Fokker, commander of the Skull Squadron, just smiled and said the words that Rick had never expected to come out of his friend’s lips, “I think I’ve fallen in love.”